


A Study in Baking

by mm8



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Curtain Fic, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-07
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-28 12:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/674221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock try to make a cake for Mrs. Hudson's birthday but get a bit distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Baking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazycatt71](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazycatt71/gifts).



"Are you sure this is a good idea, John?" Sherlock says as he sprinkles flour into the pan. "Although, I assume that baking is a lot like chemistry and therefore I will excel at the subject," he grins. "Neither of us have experience with baking so logically—"

"And yet," John interrupts. "When my sister was married to Clara she was still able to bake her a cake for every birthday, anniversary, promotion or what have you." He shrugs.

"You assume that if a raging chronic alcoholic can bake a cake multiple times with satisfactory results than why can't we?"

John grits his teeth. "I'd rather you not word it like that. She is my sister."

"You're upset. Why?" He puts the flour aside and studies his partner. "It's somehow different when _I_ say it, isn't it? Why?"

"It just is okay. I can say shit about Harry all I want cause she's my sister. It hurts to hear someone else say even if that someone is you." John looks up at Sherlock. "Don't you feel that way about Mycroft? No, of course you don't."

"I can understand your sentiment," Sherlock admits. "Even if I don't agree."

John nods, even though his demeanor is diminished. His shoulders are slumped, the injured one more than the other. His forehead has a deep crease and his frown… John really shouldn't be frowning.

"Okay," John sighs deeply. "We've greased the pan. Sprinkled flour over the pan. What's… the next… step…" He leans over his mobile to check. "Pour the batter—Mmph!" 

John is surprised as Sherlock kisses him, cupping his face and bringing their bodies close. He can feel Sherlock's cock beginning to harden against him. John moans and opens his mouth, letting his lover explore his tongue, teeth, biting, nipping, and licking. Sherlock's hands leaves his face, one of them roams to his arse, squeezing it, massaging. He starts to slip his hand down the waistband of John's trousers---

_SPLAT._

John opens his eyes. There's something wet and sticky on his cheek. He takes his index finger and takes a tentative wipe to see what hit him. His brow furrow. It's a pale, gooey mixture. John looks up when he hears Sherlock's distinctive deep laughter.

One of Sherlock's hands, the one that wasn't busy grabbing his bum is covered in cake batter. 

John smiles deviously.

The game is on.

 

Mrs. Hudson's hip aches. She never liked going to the rheumatologist. They always moved her body to check her movement but it always hurt afterwards, like it was too much strain on her hip. The doctor assured it that it was normal behavior. Normal or not, it was rubbish. She's going to have to use some of her herbal soothers when she gets home. Perhaps Dr. Watson will have some ideas as well. She sighs. This was really not how she wanted to spend her birthday.

She unlocks the front door to 221 and is accosted with cheerful screams and giggles. This piques Mrs. Hudson's interest. Perhaps the boys have some children for clients again? Oh, maybe she'll make them some tea and biscuits. Children always love biscuits.

The climb up to 221B is painful. She stops several times, rubbing her hip to try and lull it somehow. The door to the boys' flat is open, which wasn't too unusual so she goes ahead and lets herself in.

What she's expecting is Sherlock to be pacing back and forth thinking, a couple of children giggling at the silly detective, and John taking down notes. Instead what she gets is a mess. Their entire flat is covered in… God she's doesn't want to think about what it is with all the things Sherlock keeps in the fridge. John and Sherlock are doused in the same mixture from head to toe, slipping on the carpet and tile, and throwing whatever the gooey stuff is at each other.

Oh God.

"Boys!" Mrs. Hudson yells. "What are you doing!?"

Simultaneously, Sherlock and John look up at her, smiling and trying to control their giggles. "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Hudson." They say after each other.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes widen and she shakes her head. She's sure she'll get the full story from John later. "I'm not cleaning this up." She turns away and smiles brightly to herself, "Not your housekeeper."

As she goes down the stairs she can still hear their laughter. Her boys in a good mood makes her birthday that much better.

**Author's Note:**

> * Kudos are amazing and I will never stop asking for them, but getting comments, actual feedback from readers means so much. Taking five seconds out of your time can really make my day.
>   
> 
> * You can follow me on [tumblr](http://mm8fic.tumblr.com/).
>   
> 


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